Read Online Tyrant by Valerio Massimo Manfredi - Free Book Online
Authors: Valerio Massimo Manfredi
Ads: Link
the enemy lines. He said that down there, somewhere down in the plain, there’s an army of three thousand men headed by Diocles. He’s talking with our commanders.’
The old men hastened towards the eastern gate where fires had been lit to illuminate the area of the breach. The commanders were grouped around the new arrivals, led by a young man armed with only a sword and a dagger. His long hair was tied back with a leather string, and he looked no older than twenty. They drew closer so they wouldn’t miss a word.
‘Diocles wants to enter the city tonight, under the cover of darkness, and attack without warning tomorrow with all the forces at his disposal.’
‘Enter the city?’ asked one of the officers. ‘How?’
‘Nearly all of the barbarians are at the camp. There are just a few sentinels posted around those campfires you can see down there. There’s a dune stretching along the coast that’s high enough to hide anyone walking along the waterline from view. Our men will come in that way, but you’ll have to draw up a contingent to guard the northern gate and ensure that it stays open. If you agree, we can launch the signal right now.’ He gestured to one of his men, who neared the fore with a tow-wrapped arrow.
‘Just a moment,’ said one of the Himeran commanders. ‘Who can tell me this isn’t a trick?’
‘I can,’ replied the young man. ‘I’ll stay here as a hostage with all my men.’
‘And just who are you?’ asked another officer.
‘Dionysius,’ replied the young man. ‘Son of Hermocritus. Now let’s get moving.’ He took the bow from the archer’s hand, ignited the arrow and let it fly high.
Far away, on the dune ridge, two sentinels saw the small meteor streak through the dark sky and exchanged a relieved look.
‘The signal,’ said one of them. ‘He did it again. Tell the commander.’
4
B EFORE THE SUN had set, the Syracusan squadron, twenty-five triremes strong, appeared offshore. They had dismasted and were advancing by oar; it was clear that the commanders were on the alert for any unexpected occurrences.
Diocles was camped on the beach, hidden from view by the long coastal dune that stretched towards the interior. He was preparing the contingent that he had brought to assist the besieged Himerans. The navarchs were instructed to stand by and remain ready to intervene if the ships were needed. Diocles waited until night had fallen to give the signal for departure; the password flew from one unit to the next.
The column began to march along the waterline without making a sound, their steps muffled by the damp sand. Diocles was at their head, followed by the companies and the battalions, each led by its own commander. Sentries crouched on the top of the ridge to keep an eye on the plain and ensure that the barbarians remained unaware of the fact that an entire army was marching at a short distance from their camp in the dark in silence, like a multitude of ghosts.
When they had neared their objective, Diocles sent out a couple of scouts who approached the Himeran troops guarding the northern gate. Before the garrison commander could challenge them, they identified themselves: ‘We’re the vanguard of the Syracusan army.’
‘May the gods bless you,’ said the commander. ‘We thought you’d never get here.’
The man whistled and the army moved forward, four-across, through the northern gate. In cadenced step now, their nailed boots rang out against the walls and porticoes. As soon as they began to enter, the news spread that reinforcements had arrived and the inhabitants of the city left their houses and thronged along the street that led to the agora. Such was their joy at seeing them that they would have liked to shout and applaud those young men who had come to risk their lives to help them, but they remained silent, each one of them anxiously counting the files that passed. Their hopes for salvation grew as each unit was added to the one that had
The old men hastened towards the eastern gate where fires had been lit to illuminate the area of the breach. The commanders were grouped around the new arrivals, led by a young man armed with only a sword and a dagger. His long hair was tied back with a leather string, and he looked no older than twenty. They drew closer so they wouldn’t miss a word.
‘Diocles wants to enter the city tonight, under the cover of darkness, and attack without warning tomorrow with all the forces at his disposal.’
‘Enter the city?’ asked one of the officers. ‘How?’
‘Nearly all of the barbarians are at the camp. There are just a few sentinels posted around those campfires you can see down there. There’s a dune stretching along the coast that’s high enough to hide anyone walking along the waterline from view. Our men will come in that way, but you’ll have to draw up a contingent to guard the northern gate and ensure that it stays open. If you agree, we can launch the signal right now.’ He gestured to one of his men, who neared the fore with a tow-wrapped arrow.
‘Just a moment,’ said one of the Himeran commanders. ‘Who can tell me this isn’t a trick?’
‘I can,’ replied the young man. ‘I’ll stay here as a hostage with all my men.’
‘And just who are you?’ asked another officer.
‘Dionysius,’ replied the young man. ‘Son of Hermocritus. Now let’s get moving.’ He took the bow from the archer’s hand, ignited the arrow and let it fly high.
Far away, on the dune ridge, two sentinels saw the small meteor streak through the dark sky and exchanged a relieved look.
‘The signal,’ said one of them. ‘He did it again. Tell the commander.’
4
B EFORE THE SUN had set, the Syracusan squadron, twenty-five triremes strong, appeared offshore. They had dismasted and were advancing by oar; it was clear that the commanders were on the alert for any unexpected occurrences.
Diocles was camped on the beach, hidden from view by the long coastal dune that stretched towards the interior. He was preparing the contingent that he had brought to assist the besieged Himerans. The navarchs were instructed to stand by and remain ready to intervene if the ships were needed. Diocles waited until night had fallen to give the signal for departure; the password flew from one unit to the next.
The column began to march along the waterline without making a sound, their steps muffled by the damp sand. Diocles was at their head, followed by the companies and the battalions, each led by its own commander. Sentries crouched on the top of the ridge to keep an eye on the plain and ensure that the barbarians remained unaware of the fact that an entire army was marching at a short distance from their camp in the dark in silence, like a multitude of ghosts.
When they had neared their objective, Diocles sent out a couple of scouts who approached the Himeran troops guarding the northern gate. Before the garrison commander could challenge them, they identified themselves: ‘We’re the vanguard of the Syracusan army.’
‘May the gods bless you,’ said the commander. ‘We thought you’d never get here.’
The man whistled and the army moved forward, four-across, through the northern gate. In cadenced step now, their nailed boots rang out against the walls and porticoes. As soon as they began to enter, the news spread that reinforcements had arrived and the inhabitants of the city left their houses and thronged along the street that led to the agora. Such was their joy at seeing them that they would have liked to shout and applaud those young men who had come to risk their lives to help them, but they remained silent, each one of them anxiously counting the files that passed. Their hopes for salvation grew as each unit was added to the one that had
Similar Books
